Substitute
by AkumaStrife
Summary: Because that's all he ever was to them; being able to look like anyone and all. /Chain of Memories arc/
1. A Change in Orders

"Superior," the pink-haired nobody addressed with respect, tilting in a slight bow.

"XI."

"You wanted to see me?"

"I'm changing one of your orders," came the monotone reply, the emptiness enhanced by the dead stare from the electric orange eyes. It was an odd combination.

"Mine sir?"

"No, VI's. I had an interesting conversation the other day with IV."

Xemnas did not explain his reasoning and thoughts behind his decisions often; so that was what clued Marluxia in to the fact that this change in plans was important.

"It has been brought to my attention that certain numbers have…tricked themselves into thinking they have 'feelings' for other numbers. Did you have any prior knowledge of this XI?"

"Nothing that confirmed it, Sir, but I had an idea. Enlighten me…is that a bad thing?"

"I am not yet sure. But I am sure of one thing: we can use this to our advantage."

"And Ze-VI?" the Graceful Assassin corrected.

"He will be the one to carry out my plans. I normally would not indulge you so as to explain my intentions, but I need you to convey them to IV."

"Very well Sir."

"The Keyblader and his lackeys have entered into your domain. The numbers we've stationed in Castle Oblivion need to be stronger if you plan on fulfilling your orders. IV has entertained me with a theory as to why you all aren't as strong as you could be."

Marluxia cocked an eyebrow, but did nothing else as he waited for his Superior to finish.

"He has told me that you deceived yourselves into thinking you have the capacity to 'feel'. And by doing _that_ you have in turn grown…_'fond'_ of each other. But unreciprocated feelings do you no good; they weaken you! IV thinks that all of your 'love', as he is bent on calling it, seems too fabricated. But if those 'feelings' were to be solidified he is certain that you'd become unimaginably strong…"

**(~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~)**

"Yes, that's what I told him!" Vexen snapped. Marluxia was down in the basement floors now, giving Vexen the new orders. "But how exactly does he plan on having these silly 'emotions' turned into something real, hmm?"

Marluxia grinned wickedly, eyes practically glowing "Well, _my dear Vexen_, we are to have those desires come true…"

**(~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~) (~+~)**

"And how are we to do that?" Zexion asked boredly. He really had no idea as why Vexen had called him into the lab. Actually…that was a lie. He knew why, he had known as soon as he'd smelled that heady floral scent: Marluxia came baring new orders. But the unexpected part was that he was summoned when the taller nobody had ascended to the top floors.

"Xemnas thinks that you can accomplish that."

"What? How?"

"By disguising yourself as the object of their desire."

"…I have no choice, do I?"

"They are instructions sent directly from the Superior."

"Didn't think so," the younger muttered blandly, "Fine."

"Here is the list then. Remember; the objective is to strengthen them."

"Yes, yes," he dismissed, scanning the piece of paper before one visible eyebrow furrowed slightly, willing the inked words to rearrange themselves. Once he deemed the log of names 'time efficient' he held up the page, tapping the improved fourth line.

"Why him? Why the newbie?" he asked, already starting to work it out for himself.

"He is to be dispatched here in a couple of days time. The Superior felt it was appropriate, seeing his connection with the subject."

"If the superior commands it..." Zexion muttered somewhat mockingly as he stared at the list intently, ambling out of the lab and on his way to start his new task. His mind was swirling with plans and measures to be taken; there was no way he'd fail.


	2. Marluxia

**Warnings: This story will furthermore contain yaoi, swearing, explicit(and not so explicit) sex, dark themes, etc. And in case anybody wonders the purpose for such an odd and seemingly useless story: it was a character study for me.**

* * *

Marluxia craved Larxene

She was everything that turned him on: sadistic, sarcastic, confident, and twisted. Odd thing to be attracted to, but that's Marluxia for you.

They had a certain level of understanding, a certain level of confidentiality. They knew almost everything about the other; knew how each one ticked, knew their preferences. You could almost say that their intensity of familiarity was on par with lovers…except they weren't. Which was something that frustrated number eleven greatly.

She was the only one who saw things almost identical to him. She thought the same way, reasoned the same, and came to the same conclusions.

The only problem was she had her sights set on _that flaming hedgehog_. For it was Axel who was the recipient of her sultry bedroom eyes. To her, Marluxia was more of a twin, and it definitely showed in her physical comfort zone. With out another thought she would touch him, blow him faux kisses, drape herself over him in any way physically possible, and lounge in his lap whenever the opportunity arose.

That in itself was a sort of medium for the Graceful Assassin. Because although she may not see him as anything more than her other self, at least he still got to touch and hold her.

Which for now was good enough.

* * *

Zexion strode down the bland white hall, neither hurrying nor being purposely slow. He was upset…well, as upset as a being with out a heart could be. He was not particularly fond of their Superior's new plan. Especially since it exploited him in ways he'd never wanted to seriously consider. Never would he have done something this extreme unless he would reap sizeable benefits, yet he knew this new task was going to prove very fruitless indeed.

But orders were orders, so he soon found himself in front of a plain white door, much like all the rest. The only difference was the silver 'XI' attached to it.

Holding his head high and determined to retain what dignity he had left, number six knocked briskly on the door. It swung open a moment later, a very shirtless Marluxia lounging in the doorway. He was the very icon of sex: mussed hair, only donning a pair of precariously unzipped leather pants, and carrying the air and ease of a confident jungle cat.

He must have been expecting him.

"Well, if it isn't little elusive six. Why, pray tell, do I have the _pleasure_ of _entertaining_ you today?" he asked suggestively.

"I'm not here for my own satisfaction, and you very well know that," Zexion accused and wasted no time in letting his features morph. It was, after all, one of his greatest powers: becoming anyone's doppelganger, shape shifting to look like any kind of person one could think of.

He grew taller, hair shorter and lighter, eyes brighter. The changes went on until before Marluxia stood the 'Savage Nymph' herself. Zexion never had liked taking the body of a girl, it was much too different for his tastes; but he didn't hate it, so he did as he was told and never complained.

Marluxia smirked mischievously, obviously not all that surprised at the unfolding events, "My, my, what do we have here? Not only are you shamelessly offering yourself to me, but you're going to take the face of another?". His grin widened as the dark teal eyes flashed in anticipation, displaying much hunger and lust.

He grabbed 'Larxene's' shoulders none too gently and pulled 'her' into the room, bending to nip at the ear and whispered, "Naughty little Zexion"

* * *

Zexion thought that in a different life, he might've come to love Marluxia. Well, not really 'loved' as much as respected and held a deep envy for. That was kind of the same thing, right?

Except, that wasn't the case at first. No, in fact he'd hated the newer member. He was much too bossy and arrogant, as if he had some sort of influential power. He was too manipulative, as if everything he did had some sort of personal gain attached to it.

No, Zexion hadn't loved him. But he sure as hell respected him.

The pink haired nobody carried himself as if he knew he could rule the organization, as if he knew how to pull it off.

He was powerful, daring anyone to mock him for the pink that was natural drawn to him or the element he controlled. He'd proved that flowers could be badass. He was almost unbeatable, taken down by only Xemnas himself, or when two members teamed up against him.

So Zexion had respected him for blatantly ignoring the insults and gossip behind his back, slowly over time gaining the admiration and hesitant trust of the others. He almost single-handedly won the entire organization's approval.

But even then, they all knew he housed something sinister and foreboding, something that would not go well for some.

He was much too powerful and he knew how to use it.

* * *

"I never took you for being so damn sadistic. Manipulative: yes. But this?" Zexion panted uncomfortably, or rather 'Larxene' panted uncomfortably. For it was her image and shape he wore, and it was her scornful and mocking voice that came from the full lips.

"You shouldn't be all that surprised," Marluxia mused, watching his writhing victim. 'Larxene' was tied to the bedpost with shifting and sliding vines. She let out a groan as a green stem trailed its way up her stomach, another slipping tightly around her neck, a few others probing inside her.

The plants were twisted all around her: stroking, caressing, exploring. But it wasn't always gentle and arousing, rather frequently would lash out violently and cause a cry of pain to escape her mouth. The vines were covered in miniscule thorns that pricked her skin, creating tiny, hardly noticeable scratches; but definitely filled with some sort of special venom.

Larxene would be surprised if the 'Graceful Assassin' himself hadn't created the poison. For as it trickled into the blood stream, it affected the body much like an aphrodisiac. It excited her nerves, made a hazy white fringe her thoughts, and messed with her body until she was hot and bothered…willing to do almost anything for a release.

Zexion hated begging and seeming needy, but then again…he wasn't exactly himself at the moment.


	3. Larxene

Larxene found it easy to hate Axel.

And for so many reasons too.

She hated him because of the way he teased her. Always pushing her to her limits, knowing which buttons to push and what would result. Always using that arrogant attitude, as if he knew exactly how to irritate her…as if he knew exactly _why_ it irritated her.

She hated how well he seemed to know her. What she loved, what pissed her off, what made her entertain the thought of crying (although she never went through with it).

She hated how stupid and oblivious he could be.

She hated him because he made her feel vulnerable and confused (although she would never admit it).

She hated him because of the way he made her feel...or rather, the way she tricked herself into believing she felt.

When he was around, her brain would stop working the way she wanted it to. Her comebacks were badly timed and average at best. Over time she learned how to over come this minor block, but the only way she could was changing for the worst. If anyone thought about it; it was Axel who caused her normal bitch levels to soar, her reasonable sadistic tendencies to blossom to their full potential, but most of all…it was because of him that she learned how to get under people's skin. She perfected that tone of voice, the one where you know you can't win and made her triumphant because she knew you were utterly broken and defeated.

He really did bring out the worst in her.

But in reality she only hated him for one reason: because she couldn't feel the opposite.

Scientifically speaking, she wasn't able to love. Personally, she wouldn't consider the idea of loving him. Because he made her feel upset and he liked getting under her skin, he always put her in a bad mood.

But what she wasn't admitting to was the fact that she didn't actually mind his antics all that much. She often liked the twisted banter he provided. When he teased her relentlessly she could hear the underlying flirting. Frankly, she liked _any_ attention she could get from him.

So, putting it plainly…it was more of a one-sided, love/hate relationship.

Leave it to Larxene to make everything more complicated than it had to be.

* * *

Zexion was still a little ruffled from the night before, but he wouldn't let it show or affect his performance. He was making his way leisurely up the stairs to the top floors; there was no need to rush. It's not like he was particularly happy about his new set of orders.

But the required door came in sight and he was forced to suppress his discontent. He was about to knock briefly on the plain, numbered door when it flew open of its own accord.

"What do you want?" Larxene snapped as the door was flung open. She was in no mood to deal with anyone right now, especially not the cloaked schemer; his presence was always bad news.

Zexion did not give her an answer with words. Larxene was a blunt person. Subtly never worked on her, so it was best not to waste any time and to be very frank about things with her. Actions spoke louder than words after all.

She scowled as she waited for an answer. Zexion merely took a deep breath through his nose and waited for the changes to be complete. His body grew taller and lanky, hair growing and spiking into a fire engine red. Silvery-blue eyes morphing into bright green. Larxene's mouth fell open shamelessly as she internally struggled not to reach out to stroke the fresh tattoos. She shut her mouth abruptly and leered, as she understood the proposition being offered her.

"Oh, I see. Come in then."

As soon as he stepped over the threshold the numbered door was slammed shut and he was pushed violently up against it, her lips covering his hungrily. He was in for another rough night.

As was his duty he pushed back, feigning eagerness. Larxene seemed to completely forget that this wasn't Axel, merely Zexion pretending. Then again, it wasn't like he was complaining; it made this whole thing much easier.

* * *

Zexion decided that he could've loved Larxene, maybe once upon a time.

Well, sort of. He could appreciate the kind of person that she was, which was more than most, so it had to count as something.

Yes, she had a multitude of horrible qualities. But they weren't always fueled by murderous or sadistic intent…they just happened to turn out that way.

She was the only other nobody in their company that read books of merit (or any books at all for that matter). To Zexion, literary works were like drugs to an addict. He lived and breathed books. After all, their entire existence was meaningless; everyone needed something to live for, else they would recognize themselves as the empty shells they were and lose all faint will to keep at their pretending. So for there to be someone who partook in his personal brand of poison was like being graced with that sliver of light in what was a promise of eternal darkness.

He relished in the knowledge that there was some one else he could truly talk to about whatever tidbit he had picked up in one of his precious books; elated that she would devour any tome he thought she might enjoy.

They were times like those that he enjoyed Larxene's jaded company, sometimes even craving the intelligent debates and feedback only she could provide.

So in all it wasn't her looks or personality that drew Zexion to her, rather it was her mind that he lusted after (so to speak). It was her intellectual and sharp tongue that had ensnared him, and her exceptionally quick wit. Her sadistic practices aside, for it was Zexion that had heedlessly passed her the biography and extended works of Marquis de Sade that first week of existence.

* * *

"Do it!' she hissed, teeth pressed against the schemer's ear, his body tacked to the wall with many lightning infused kunai. Some caught through the soft material of his cloak, many others pinning flesh and causing red liquid to bubble and roll across his skin lazily.

Zexion did not submit to her command however, but merely grimaced and kept his shape; proving who was really in charge.

"I said—"

"I heard what you said," the blue haired nobody shot back, returning her gaze evenly. She held it, then made a short noise of frustration, taking a step back.

She frowned darkly, looking in the other directing. And to Zexion, that was as good as surrender. He pulled himself free, his blank expression giving no sign whether the action pained him. He didn't even worry about the wounds, knowing it was futile as they'd only be re-inflicted.

"I think now may be a good time to help number four with his experiments, don't you think?" he asked snidely, a cruel grin twisting his face.

The girl whipped back to glare at him, but he didn't even flinch.

"Don't play games with me," she spat, "We both know you came to me for only one reason. So drop the act and get on with it!"

"Temper, temper," he admonished with a sneer, but did as she said none-the-less. His form rippled and warped, until it was Axel that looked down on her.

"That's more like it," she said, pushing herself once more against the other body. 'Axel' didn't respond, merely slammed his lips against hers, letting himself be as violent as he felt. It wasn't like the 'Savage Nymph' would mind.

"I don't know why you always have to be so difficult, it always ends exactly the same way," Larxene purred once she'd pulled back. Again Axel didn't respond, his silence indicating the answer she already knew. She threw her head back and laughed: a cold and vengeful sound. The action presented her smooth neck to Axel, who wasted no time in attacking the expanse.

Her cackles quickly morphed into moans as she clutched him tightly, not caring how desperate and easy it made her seem. She was a twisted and awful person, but she was only one sadist out of thirteen. It was that thought that eased her deeply buried doubt.

This was the only kind of life that awaited them; there was no sense in pretending to feel bad about it. And so Larxene used this empty life of hers for all it was worth. Even if it meant killing for the things she wanted and fulfilling her desires through some one she didn't even like.


	4. Axel

Axel wanted to love Roxas.

Now, granted, Roxas always scoffed and told him that Nobodies didn't possess the capacity to love, but that never stopped the pyro. He was positive that what he felt for Roxas was genuine.

Being with the blond boy made him feel whole. Made him feel like his life had a purpose and that he did, in fact, have emotions.

There were no fancy words or drawn out confessions of love to describe what he felt for Roxas. To him it was so simple, so linear, that there was no need. He loved the blond (regardless of what the others thought nobodies were capable) and that was all there really was to it. He could go on for days about how he felt and what he liked about Roxas, but to him that seemed like it was taking the magic and the mystery from the whole thing. As if it was breaking it down into something measurable and therefore able to be fabricated over and over again.

And to Axel, and what little experience he had gathered thus far, that wasn't what it was about. He thought that this shouldn't be something that can be recreated. It was something he had made to be his own illusion of emotions. It was unique, just like that scientist's snowflakes; each one different and never able to be made again.

Sometimes, when he was close enough to his precious blond, he channeled a ghost of the remnants of feeling that must be residing in Roxas. Experiencing true feeling, even if only a little and only for a short moment, made him feel real. Reassured him that he was capable of loving, and that is was not all for naught and only part of some sad illusion.

So, armed with the memories of such emotions, it didn't bother Axel when Roxas would reject his company or disappear to who knows where; because there were always those times that Roxas proved he felt for the redhead. Times like after missions, where he'd spend the rest of the afternoon him, without the pyro having even to ask.

Hey, the first word out of the kid's mouth was his name. That counted for something, right?

And so Axel spent every waking moment possible with Roxas, whether the other wanted him around or not.

* * *

Axel grabbed the front of Zexion's cloak as soon as the shorter nobody stepped into the common area.

"Well, hello there little mole," he sneered, seeming to be delighted with the name, "is there a reason why you've crawled out of your tunnels?"

Zexion chuckled lightly, "Really? That's the best you could come up with? Words really aren't your forte."

The red head scowled and shook him slightly, yanking their faces closer together, "Just tell me what the hell you want before I end your pitiful existence."

Zexion smirked at his short temper; after all, fire was fickle and quick to turn on you. So he decided to ignore the somewhat lacking threat and merely leaned forward to kiss him.

Axel jerked back, his unguarded expression a mix of furry and shock, "What…the…_fuck_?"

The blue haired nobody smiled politely, "Ah, my apologies, I seem to have gotten ahead of myself there," and melted into the image of Roxas. The other gaped and dropped him to the ground.

"Well, that isn't very nice, now is it?" 'Roxas' asked with a frown, the formal words sounding wrong coming from his mouth.

Axel snarled, "I don't know what the hell you're trying to pull, but you better knock it off before I turn you into a pile of ashes!"

"My, my, how terrifying" 'Roxas' pouted mockingly, expression turning wicked "But…can you kill him? Would you actually harm his pretty face and his precious figure?"

The red head looked absolutely murderous, but Zexion was quite confident that he was safe as long as he kept this image.

"Come now," 'Roxas' reasoned as he picked himself up off the floor, "There's no need to get all up in arms, I'm simply offering you a chance. An illusion all the same, yes; but it's much better than your own lacking imagination, hmm?"

Axel watched him warily, curiosity overpowering the initial anger. It would be a lie for him to say this possible situation didn't appeal to him greatly.

"What's in it for you? What am I going to have to give up for this?"

'Roxas' held up his hands in mock surrender, "Why, nothing at all, it is a no strings attached arrangement. I am merely fulfilling my orders, from the Superior himself no less. It would be foolish to pass up this prospect, as well as causing myself to fail this particular assignment."

Axel hated when Zexion started talking in that pretentious manner of his; it meant that the smaller nobody knew he had won, knew before the argument was even half over. At this point it was futile to resist, as Zexion always found a method to get his way in the end. And besides, nobodies don't feel or have emotions at all, why _should _he throw away a perfectly good chance for an outlet?

You knew things were hopeless when you started seeing things the cloaked schemer's way.

"Whatever," Axel growled, "I have a mission now, but when I come back…you better be near, got it memorized? And if I find that is one of your newest ploys…there _will_ be hell to pay, you can be sure of that!"

'Roxas' merely smirked and yanked the pyro down for one last forceful kiss, pulling back moments later to reply, "Understood. I shall be waiting then."

As Axel portaled away Zexion dropped the guise and leered; this game was becoming far too easy, especially when his subjects were unknowingly drowning in their own facades.

* * *

Zexion enjoyed Axel immensely, almost to the point of pretend fondness, of faux love.

Or rather, he reveled in messing with him. Yes, there was that small flicker of real adoration, something not so different from a young girl falling for the school's residential bad boy. But Zexion's love for getting him needlessly worked up overshadowed the notion that Axel was considerably balanced, as far as guys like him came.

But Zexion rather liked seeing the redhead's expression flare with rage or annoyance; preferred seeing the sneer over an actual smile, as the latter made the pretending too real for comfort. He favored the pyro rough and uncaring, instead of that fake appearance of love and gentleness; otherwise it was akin to twisting the knife, and Zexion didn't quite want to deal with that anymore.

He did everything he could to keep Axel in an aggressive mood. The redhead was too easily lost in the image of Roxas that Zexion would wear; too easily slipping into some sense of being whole and harboring true emotions. Which not only pained Zexion, seeing as it only made it agonizingly obvious that they were empty, but also made it very clear to him that he was unable to trick himself into such a blissfully unaware state. One could not trick the trickster after all.

Yes, if he did not keep Axel's consciousness in the present then the pyro would lose himself completely.

Because to Axel this was more than a mere game. He relied on Zexion. As if Zexion could fill that empty space, as if Zexion could make him feel. Could give him what no one else had been able to.

Zexion had been able to give him Roxas, and to him that spoke volumes.

* * *

_Fuck. _The pain. The burning. The unnatural stretching. He'd never taken before; as Marluxia had merely sent his vines to do his dirty work, contenting himself with watching, but ___oh shit_– Axel started moving.

'Roxas' sucked in a ragged breath, trying to keep his sounds in check; unsure whether to moan in pleasure or cry out in discomfort.

The redhead kept pushing; piercing green eyes out of focus and his consciousness drowning somewhere deep where nothing -not even the writhing body beneath him- could reach him.

He knew it sound cliché, but having sex with Axel was just like playing with fire. It burned and stung, but filled you with an overwhelming, suffocating euphoria. Exactly like a drug; knowing it hurt, knowing it would kill you someday, but always coming back for more; always craving the poisonous touch,_ consuming all thoughts, ignoring the warnings, not caring, __constantly needing more just to breath__, necessary to pull in those shaking and shuddered gasps of air laced with keens._

Every time Axel shoved in, unaware of the smaller blond's discomfort, a moan or whine would tumbled from his lips and a spark of addictive pain shot up Roxas' spine. It hurt more than anything, but _oh god_…he wouldn't trade anything for this feeling. Maybe this was why the other nobodies held on to their pretty fantasies so tightly.

The pyro's wiry hands crushed Roxas' shoulders in a frantic grip. But the younger one was too busy moaning and clutching the fiery crimson locks to care. He forced a leg around the moving hips haphazardly, wanting to feel this potent mix of sensations deeper, marveling at how each time Axel shoved in it seemed like he was shoving Roxas' consciousness into oblivion with it. Pain, even more than pleasure, obliterated all rationality. There was no need for thought here, not anymore. There was only feeling and reactions, everything Zexion(currently Roxas) worked so hard to build up regressing within moments to carnal instincts. And for once…the cloaked schemer couldn't care less.


	5. Roxas

Roxas felt like he loved Sora.

Simple. That was all there was to it.

But it wasn't in that 'creepy, twin, incest' way. It was so much more. Which was understandable, seeing how they weren't twins. They were literally a part of each other, the missing half each longed for. They were almost the same being.

Which most would find even worse than plain confused twins.

But Roxas thought it was okay, and that was all that mattered.

You see, it had started as simple infatuation. After all, Sora was his 'somebody', his counter part, his light. So that longing was purely wanting to be joined with the other, to finally become whole. It was only natural, as that was where he belonged.

At least…that's what he passed it off as at first.

As he would watch his brunet half race through the mundane white halls, he started noticing things. Nothing too important, only little things, but they still meant _something_. Like how those blue eyes, identical to his own, held so much joy and hope while his own only carried emptiness. And how -after running and battling for so long- the way his heart would beat with _life_ and his chest would heave in need of oxygen. And before long he started to pretend that _he_ was the reason Sora would gasp and pant. He would imagine that Sora was beneath him; the tired face he wore would be twisted in pleasure, the identical body writhing against him.

But then Roxas would sigh and turn away from the scene of his Sora fighting through the castle. He would turn and walk away, over come with jealousy. For no matter how much he hated it, Sora was not coming for him, rather other people he considered his friends. Roxas would have been so much more than a friend, but Sora didn't even know he existed. Sora wasn't aware that he even had a nobody. And that crushed Roxas. It wasn't even possible, but somehow it hurt him every time. But mostly when he started having dreams littered with the fabricated scenes, filled with lusts and passions, of him and his Sora. Because the part that hurt him the most…was when Sora would call out _that_ _other girl's name_.

* * *

Zexion stalked through the hallways with purpose. This one would be more difficult, but not entirely impossible. No, nothing was impossible for the cloaked schemer. He knocked briefly on the farthest door. Being last certainly did have its downsides.

"Axel, I swear to kingd—" but Roxas stopped mid-sentence warily, a visit from the usually absent nobody of the lower levels was rarely a good thing "Zexion, sorry, thought you would be some one else."

"It's no problem"

"…Good, uh, is there something you needed then?"

Zexion smiled cheerily, a foreign reaction coming from him, one that Roxas had never seen before and frankly, it worried him. The blue haired nobody eased himself into the room passed the hesitant blonde, seating himself on Roxas' bed as if he actually belonged there.

"I have simply come to offer you something." and he mentally cringed at how many times he had uttered those words, each scenario turning out the same.

"I see." was all the blonde said.

Zexion's mischievous smirk rippled, along with the rest of his features; his too intelligent eyes flashing colors until they settled for a bright blue. Roxas gaped at the figure before him, definitely not a stranger but not the person that had invited himself in. He took a few steps back as the identically colored eyes watched him with child-like confusion.

"Roxas? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that? Have I done something wrong?" 'Sora' asked sorrowfully.

"This is…that's sick! You are twisted!" Roxas cried; shocked by the audacity of what Zexion was doing.

'Sora' stood and threw himself into Roxas arms, grasping at his shirt tightly "Roxas, what are you saying? Do you…not love me anymore?"

There was a resounding SMACK as 'Sora' fell to the ground, a hand pressed to his cheek as Roxas stood above him, his face a mix of fake emotions he couldn't actually feel. He was upset that he had just hit Sora, but then he had to remind himself that this was not Sora by any means.

'Sora's' innocent expression morphed into a wicked grin as he stood "Why are you fighting this Rox-as?" he drew out the name, accentuated by lightly brushing his newly tanned fingers down the paler cheek. His voice was not only Sora's but Zexion's as well, as if the two were overlapped…both talking at once.

"You know you want him. And here he is, ready for the _taking,_" they purred, pressing feather light kisses along his jaw.

"You are not Sora." Roxas protested weakly, the gentle touches quickly getting to him, "You're pretending to be him, which isn't right."

"We do not exist, we are abominations: who are we to label 'right' and 'wrong'? Don't you know how to except a gift?" he whined, which didn't have quite the same effect with Zexion's voice laced in it, but the pouting eyes carried enough emotion to stop Roxas in his tracks.

"I don't know why you would do this for me…" he trailed off, acutely aware of the breath washing over his neck.

"Do I need a reason? Can't I just do something nice for you?" he asked, pressing himself once more to the blonde boy's chest.

"No, I've heard you do nothing without some sort of gain."

Instead of answering Roxas' obviously true statement Sora merely leaned in swiftly and captured Roxas' lips in a deep kiss. The blond's eyes contracted in shock, but quickly lost himself in the heat, letting his eyes slip closed and fervently pulling the familiar body closer.

Sora pulled back and whispered, his voice back to simply Sora's, "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" and Roxas forgot himself for a moment, letting that voice take him away.

"This had better not be a trick," Roxas finally lost his resolve, his aching need showing through the crushing grip he had around his somebody.

"Of course not, I'd never do that to you," Sora teased breathlessly as he was pinned against a wall, letting himself be dominated by the grateful blonde.

Zexion inwardly grinned: Sora would never take advantage of Roxas, but himself on the other hand…

The kiss was sloppy and heavy, desperation hanging thick in the air. Roxas shuddered in longing as he thrust his tongue in the willing cavern, Sora letting out a provocative sound in response. This only seemed to spur Roxas on as he pushed the brunet onto his unmade bed, eyeing him lustfully as he straddled the boy's slim waist. Sora's sky colored eyes were hazy and glazed over, crimson staining his cheeks as he panted shamelessly. Roxas wasn't even sure when Sora's shirt had become partially undone, but all his brain could process was the sight of that heaving chest…under him at last. That tipped him over the edge and he slammed his lips against the island boy's; Sora's hands came up to twist themselves in and run through the blonde spikes, a leg sneaking around the slender hips.

Roxas had completely forgotten that this wasn't really Sora at this point. And even if he had, frankly, he was too far gone to care. He had waited much too long for this opportunity. So what if he cheated a little? This animalist longing to be whole was going to suffocate him if he didn't do something about it soon.

The youngest nobody's last conscious thought was to grind his hips against Sora's when the boy moaned his name, leaning up slightly to nibble at his ear.

* * *

Zexion would've loved Roxas if he could.

Yes, he may have a slight anger problem, but Roxas had a strong sense of moral and justice. Zexion did not. He did what ever he needed to further his own goals. No matter how shifty, or who he hurt: if he wanted it bad enough then it happened. He didn't mind lying, cheating, or manipulating. It was who he was.

But Roxas on the other hand was different. Roxas would do anything to save his friends. He'd help a complete stranger. He would always stand for what was right.

And all of that was because, whether he knew this or not, Roxas seemed like he had emotions. The way he acted, the look in his eyes, his reactions. He wasn't pretending, or merely _remembering_ how it was to have feelings. It was almost as if, with out knowing it, he was channeling his Somebody's emotions some how. Maybe that was true to some degree, after all he was different than the rest of the members; he still had a living somebody.

Marluxia rebelled, Larxene overcompensated, Axel remembered. But not Roxas. With him, it was almost real. Shadows solidified and became substantial. They all knew it was a lie, but sometimes it still seemed like Roxas had the emotions they lacked. And being around him, experiencing his occasional flare of light, gave them the smallest taste of what it was like to be whole.

It was no wonder that Zexion became addicted to Roxas.

* * *

Zexion was reffing a match between Marluxia and Larxene. Unfortunately everyone else was busy, so the boring duty had fallen on him that afternoon. Anyone watching the two lowly nobodies would misinterpret their lust instilled faces for wanted to jump each other right then and there. Well, they would be partially right. Larxene's was due to the fact that she was referred to what was called a 'Battle Whore'. Physically fighting, arguing, inflicting pain, manipulating; those were the things that sadists like her got off on. So intense sparring matches like these aroused her, something Zexion would be the victim of later. And Marluxia? Well he simply wanted to screw her relentlessly. Another thing he'd probably be a vent for in the very near future.

He sighed for the fourth time in the past minute. He didn't even know why the members' matches needed a supervisor. He guessed so they did 'accidentally' kill each other, which was 87% possible to happen if they were left to their own devises. Troublesome empty shells.

"Zexion?"

"What kind of greeting is that? Terribly rude if you ask me." he answered without even turning to look at him.

When Roxas didn't offer anymore Zexion smirked. Number thirteen hated to admit that he needed Zexion. He hated to admit that he craved the touch the blue haired nobody could give him as Sora. He still thought it was very _wrong_, but relented to accepting the offer presented to him anyways. He just couldn't help it…no matter how much it went against those strange flickers of morals that he just couldn't shake.

"Come on then." Zexion said, catching the other's hand to take him back to the silent boy's room.

Roxas squirmed at the contact. Not because he had some sort of schoolgirl crush on the other teen, but because they were where other members could see them and he didn't 'feel' that way towards Zexion. It was weird enough with out adding other nobodies and their opinions.

The blonde broke out of his thoughts when Sora locked his door.

"I've missed you Roxas."

"Don't pull that shit," he growled, but the (now) brunet flitted over to him and pulled him down into a kiss. It wasn't demanding or rough or passionate, just a simple kiss. Reassurance you could almost call it, with hints of love. Roxas quickly surrendered and gave himself over to those soft lips and emotion filled eyes. So maybe he wasn't Sora, but be damned if he wasn't going to use this for all it was worth.

"You haven't come see me in a while, I got worried and thought you'd forgotten about me." Sora's lip trembled slightly "Or even worse…left me for Axel."

"Never." Roxas replied smoothly, gently grabbing the shaking lip between his teeth, rolling it lightly. Sora let out a breathy moan. That sound submerged Roxas deeper in this fantasy of lies he was pretending were real. Pushing him down until there was no way he could resurface. Wrapping him up so tightly that he no longer cared.

"Mmm, Roxas." Sora panted, fingers twisted in flaxen locks, as hands roamed his hips, undoing belts and straps as they went. Despite Sora's vulnerable façade his fingers were quite steady as he unzipped the infamous black coat, revealing the moonlight flesh beneath.

"Sora," Roxas moaned as the boy in question attached his lips to the unmarked collarbone. He nipped lightly at it, just enough of a sensation, but not _enough_. "Sora! You're such a god damn tease!" was the breathless comment as the brunet licked the faint marks sensually.

"What are you going to do about it?" came the suggestive reply as fingers strayed passed the coat and passed already dangerously low hems.

There were moments like these; when Sora would say very unSora like things with very unSora like expressions. It would half drag Roxas out of the haze he was in, sort of bring him to his senses. Then he would be pulled back in lust's murky depths with those wanting blue eyes and faux curious fingers.


	6. Sora

Sora loved a lot of people. That's just how he was.

He loved the girl whose name he couldn't always remember. The one who looked like an angel. The one he made so many promises with. The one he swore he'd protect. She was fragile, delicate. The pale blonde always preferred to draw while the boys sparred. She was sweet and soft-spoken, timid sometimes. What was her name again? Ah…Namine, yes that was her name. Sora was positive he loved her very much.

Sora cared a lot for Riku too. Sometimes even more (although he was too confused to admit it). They'd been best friends for longer than he could remember. They'd always been together, no matter what. Often they were more like brothers than anything else. They referred to each other's parents as their 'other family'; long ago dropping the honorifics. Riku and Sora were much closer than most boys, much closer than other boys wanted to be. But they didn't care. As they grew up they had their awkward moments, moments they pretended to forget, moments where invisible lines were crossed and boundaries pushed. In the end they passed it off as raging hormones, nothing more. And it was left at that. Neither willing to voice doubt or confusion.

And then there was _her_. The girl that Sora forgot even existed sometimes. He couldn't remember anything about her; no looks, no personality, no memories, not even sights or smells to associated with this nonexistent girl. All she consisted of was a flash of feeling that would occasionally flare up in the young boy's heart, reminding him that she was still there, still waiting. Sometimes the island boy wondered if he hadn't made her up entirely, that she wasn't actually real. But those thoughts always felt wrong to him, so he gave up on those all together. Occasionally he'd ask Donald or Goofy, but both would offer apologies and shake their heads. She was a ghost, merely a shadow in the back of his head. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about this girl who didn't seem to exist, unsure if there was a way he was _supposed_ to feel about her.

In this castle of despair and lost thoughts Sora found it was much too easy to forget those he cared for. And for someone as forgettable as _the girl_, he'd sometimes go days with out even a passing thought for her. And the absences of her vague memory were growing larger every passing day.

* * *

"I trust your plans are progressing smoothly?" the silver haired superior asked without any real interest.

"Yes sir." It was not often that the inhabitants of Castle Oblivion were called all the way out to The World That Never Was, so this surprise summons was a tad unsettling.

"Good, I'm adding to your instructions then. Accounting for the possibility that the members do not become strong enough, you will weaken the other two."

"…Other two? Sir?"

"Yes, the keyblade master and his friend. Make sure the keyblader is made vulnerable, and that his friend does not find him. They _must not meet_ while in the Castle."

"Very well Sir, I understand," Zexion bowed slightly, quickly vacating the practically empty room. Making a portal, number six walked through and into his current residence absentmindedly, slowly winding through expressionless hallways.

How was he supposed to weaken the two keybladers? Simply hurting them would be too obvious and only fire them up, yet fulfilling their desires like the others would result in the opposite of his goal.

He was the cloaked schemer for a reason; he specialized in plotting and manipulation, but his most valuable skill was mental anguish. Quite frankly, he could give most such a mind fuck that they never recovered. So this task in itself shouldn't be all that hard. It would just take more thought.

* * *

"Namine!" Sora cried happily, rushing across the circular room to meet her.

She smiled softly, noting how his eyes weren't quite as brilliant as they once were. That was part of this castle's effect: you lost more memories the farther you traveled, and you lost yourself more with each disappearing piece of your past. Sora was loosing a little bit of himself everyday. And it was becoming obvious to those around him.

"Are you alright?" Sora's concern pulled the blonde girl out of her own musings.

"Fine, no worries," she smiled and relief seeped into the boy's face.

"That's great to hear, I wasn't sure for a while there!"

"I know, thank you," and swept forward to embrace him tightly, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck. He returned the gesture with out a second thought.

He was unaware of the smirk that twisted the seemingly innocent girl's lips, her breath hot and inviting against his tanned skin. Slowly she pressed a soft kiss to his neck.

Sora stiffened slightly, but did nothing to stop the next few advances. Pulling away the witch gently grabbed the keyblader's face and firmly pushed her lips against his. He didn't react, but Namine moved against him anyways. If Sora was completely himself then she would have been pushed away immediately and he would be stumbling to force out half formed protests of confusion. But Sora was not exactly himself anymore.

Finally he returned the kiss, then pulled back for much needed air. His eyes were bright in some foreign emotion, one that never truly existed even when he had all of his heart. Her porcelain skin was flushed in some unnatural shade; both panting shallowly.

"Sora…" she gasped.

"I want you…so bad…" Sora muttered, too many memories gone to know that he didn't talk or act like this, that he didn't have feelings like this for people he hardly knew. He was too changed to realize how deep he was buried.

A twinkle of sultry malice flashed in the blonde girl's eyes, "Are you sure? Is it really me you want?"

"Of course," came the immediate reply, " or at least…I think."

"Or maybe…" she trailed off suggestively, nimble fingers straying past edges, pulling zippers in their wake, "…there's some one else".

"Never." It was an automatic reply, like clockwork; no question in his resolve, nor the purpose behind Namine's strange behavior.

The witch's eyes shifted every so slightly, then with in a moment flashed into the body of another, not giving Sora's drunken numb state enough time to fully comprehend.

"Riku…" Sora breathed, knowing he should be relieved. This was his best friend after all. Right?

Somewhere in the back of his mind, very far away, the keyblader sensed that something was off about this whole situation. And the oddness in how Namine disappeared and Riku showed up. But in all honesty, all that matter to him was that he had finally found his friend.

Riku pulled him into a tight hug and Sora hugged back, glad to have found him. They were more than just friends. Weren't they?

"Riku…" Sora said in awe, eyes fogging slightly "I've been looking for you…! I've searched, but it's been so hard. I keep forgetting things, important things. But the worst part is that sometimes I don't care! And—"

Riku smiled, pressing a finger to the younger boy's lips "I know, I know. Shhh, I'm here now. Everything will be alright," he soothed, wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape from the other boy's muted eyes.

The silver haired boy leaned down, almost hesitantly, and pressed his mouth against Sora's. Gently at first, but quickly increasing the pressure. A blush rose on the tanned cheeks as Sora tentatively threaded his fingers into the other's hair. Riku pulled back to watch the confused expression in Sora's eyes, then moved down to press teasing kisses to his jaw line, swiftly traveling down his neck.

"Wait!" Sora gasped, clenching his teeth against the sounds that were desperate to spew forth.

"We both want this, and you know it. Why fight it?" and bit down on the tanned collarbone, "I've been searching for you too." Sora whined in the back of his throat, enjoying the sensation much more than he liked to admit.

"I-I do want this…I think" Sora mumbled into the silver locks of hair, "But please, just wait. I need time to-to think about th-this" he stuttered, "Everything's been happening so fast, and I'm just not sure of anything anymo—".

"_No._"

"Riku!" Sora pleaded, fingers digging into pale skin and trying to push the older boy away, but Riku was stronger and managed to force the keyblader against a wall.

"You want this," Riku repeated, managing to hold both of Sora's hands in one of his own, using the other to free a belt from the other's pants. He fastened the leather strip around Sora's wrists, effectively rendering his hands useless against the assault, "More than you want to admit." Being able to read minds was always so effective.

"Riku! Please!" Sora sobbed, "Don't do this!"

"Sora, stop struggling. You're going to enjoy this, trust me." 'Riku' commanded, knowing full well that Sora would enjoy this, only to hate himself for it and leave him more broken than before. He could almost see the lifeless state the boy would be in when he was finished with him: eyes vapid and reflexes watered down, a scrambled memory, and losing all will to continue his pointless journey.

Yes, his plan was flawless.

* * *

After the fall of Castle Oblivion Sora was healed by Namine. His real memories were restored, and the ones of his time there completely erased. Although…every so often his body would freeze up and his vision would blur, overtaken with a second long flash of a scrambled scene. Most of them made no sense to him; pictures of people and places he'd never seen. But occasionally Riku's face would be there, and with out seeing the rest of the image Sora would simply _know._ There was something about Riku and him, something he couldn't remember but was so important. It was apparent in the blush that rose to his cheeks and the overwhelming and gut wrenching feelings that sweep through him, gripping at his heart, causing his breath to quicken.

But being so oblivious to his feelings and desires, Sora never fully figured out what those images meant, almost refusing to admit that he cared for Riku more than anyone.


	7. Riku

Riku loved very few.

He loved Kairi, because she was one of his best friends from childhood. She was sweet and kind, and always there for him. They played together and spent many hours of everyday in each other's company. Aside from one other they were inseparable.

He loved his parents because he had too. They raised him and fed him, what's not to love?

But there was someone he loved even more. And that person was Sora. Now, he was still trying to stab those kinds of thoughts to death, but it was only a matter of time.

He was still in disbelief from that first time the idea had crossed his mind. After all, Sora was his best friend! And completely straight! Not to mention MALE! There was no way he could have _those_ kinds of feelings for his best friend. It was always feelings like these that melted deep friendships. Besides the fact that they were both male! Boys weren't supposed to feel this way about each other. It went against all natural laws! But as time passed and they grew up more, Riku started second-guessing himself. Maybe…it was okay. Maybe…Sora would be okay with it. Maybe…Sora was flirting with him just then. He found that the more he became comfortable with the concept of being in love with Sora, the more complicated everything got.

There was always the fact that Sora showed blatant signs of being pin straight to contend with. But even so, Riku still found himself trying to pick apart every move the younger boy made, trying to decide if there might be a chance of this working out okay.

Over the span of about two years Riku dropped several less than subtle hints, tried his hand at seduction, and anything else he could think of, short of throwing the smaller boy to the ground and ravishing him senseless (Because that would have been _too_ obvious…and might have driven Sora away).

Nothing worked, so Riku mentally called a temporary stalemate. One day he'd have his innocent brunet. But for now he'd have to be content with just being his best friend…and copping a feel when the situation allowed.

* * *

"Riku!"

The boy in question spun around, senses too on edge from constant ambush. His mind whirled with questions as the head of spiky brown hair slammed into his surprised embrace.

"Riku, Riku, Riku." the boy sobbed, clutching tightly at the shirt.

"Who…?" Riku started, but the boy pulled back in alarm, blue eyes wide with fear.

"No, don't tell me this horrible place made you forget me!"

The silver haired boy looked him over for a moment or two, light suddenly flashing in his eyes, "Sora! Oh my god, what are you—"

"Thank goodness! I was so worried you wouldn't remember me!" Sora said, burying his face once more in the shirt.

"Of course I remember you," Riku chuckled, hugging the smaller boy back. He honestly couldn't remember the last time Sora had cried like this, only faint memories of childhood grudgingly surfacing .

Sora quickly wiped away his tears and stared intensely into the other boy's eyes, as if looking for something. Then, with out warning, he lunged forward and kissed him firmly. Riku's eyes widened in shock, but did nothing to stop the keyblader.

"I'm sorry!" Sora gasped, shoving himself away from Riku, "I'm sorry! It's just…I've been looking for you…for so long! And I've missed you! It's like…like everything is harder w-when you're not around! I-I need…you…and I-I…I…Iloveyou!" he said all at once, looking very much like he was about to burst into tears again.

Riku took several moments to process all this information, but slowly he started to smile. After all, he'd waited a long time to hear those words. He gathered the younger boy once more into his arms, soothingly running his fingers through the brown hair.

"There's no need to cry Sora, I'm here now and I won't leave you."

Sora smirked wickedly into his shoulder, thinking that soon enough the silly boy would be changing his tune.

* * *

The pain wasn't so bad this time around. It should have been, this was a different body, a different shape. This shape had never done this before. It should have hurt more, but it didn't. And Riku was being incredibly careless he realized, stopping his journey to have some meaningless tryst behind a statue, leaving both of them vulnerable to attack.

He realized his thoughts were rambling, but it was his new found protection. Against the pain that he wasn't supposed to feel as a nobody. The pain of selfish use and uncaring abuse. Maybe he was being tainted by the other member's ardent pretending. He was vain to even consider once that maybe all his actions would amount to something, that maybe one might change their mind and truly see the person before them instead of the person they wanted to see.

He was stupid. It was a mission, an obligation. And it always had been. There shouldn't be anything else to it.

The sharp discomfort of being penetrated was starting to fade quickly, the pulses of pleasure pleading him to step out of his thoughts and simply surrender to feeling. It was a tempting notion. And why shouldn't he? It's what he'd done in the past after all. This was his job, might as well enjoy it for all it was worth. But even as 'Sora' let himself moan heatedly, there was still that smudge of doubt. Trembling in those arms, he gave himself completely over as he tried to push all extra thoughts to the back of his mind. He'd examine them later, right now he was going to enjoy these overwhelming sensations, and then enjoy breaking the beautiful boy of moonlit beaches.

There was no more coherent thought as they rocked together: one sporadic and needy, the other drunk on sensations and the façade of having emotions. But even still, Sora tried to keep a small spark of Zexion alive in him. He would fade every so often, but would be wrenched back into groggy consciousness, awaiting his cue.

"Sora…" Riku purred into the tanned neck, breath quick and hot. Sora did not respond to the call, only moaned low and tilted his head back farther in rapture.

Suddenly a sharp sound tumbled from Sora's lips, eyes and teeth clamped together, a violent shiver shooting through his small body. Riku grinned against his skin, biting slightly as he pushed hard to hit that spot again. The euphoria was overwhelming, sending waves of thick heat rolling under Sora's skin, burying him deep in its clutches of pleasure and ecstasy. His vision was going light and dark all at the same time, seeing only colors instead of images.

"…Fuck!" Sora gasped, unable to keep his voice under wraps any longer. His grasping fingers flung themselves off the bruised shoulders and down the scratched back. Speaking while intoxicated could ruin everything, but at this moment he didn't care, _didn't comprehend _anything other than the boy against him.

He started to tremble slightly, exhaustion and overwhelming sensations taking their toll. Briefly, amidst the haze, a spark of remembrance sputtered to life. Something he was supposed to do here, something _mmm, damn, gonna—_ Riku crooned his name again. The voice kindled the spark to life until Sora's breath hitched in a mix of pleasure and panic. His mission, the whole point of this. Every time Riku hit that wonderful spot deep inside him, Zexion would be pushed into the farthest reaches of Sora's mind. It would be so easy to just forget about it all and let himself blindly enjoy this. But he couldn't, because this was a job, and he never failed, no matter the distraction: he was Zexion…wasn't he? Riku's fingers were making it hard to tell. He had to—_ah, Riku…harder!_

Zexion frantically clawed his way to the surface, desperately struggling through the suffocating masses of the deepest ink black clouds and the brightest sterile white stars. Trying to regain some sort of consciousness. The end was close, _so close_. He had to be coherent when it came for this to work, or else it would all be over, and _oh god_.

He could sense it, he would come first, which was exactly how he had planned it. Riku was touching him, jerky movements with sticky fingers. He couldn't help his whine at the painful, yet blissful tightening in the pit of his stomach.

Riku tightened his hold on him, pushing deep and more frantically. Desperately trying to bring their crescendo crashing down. Sora hoped—_nngh, fuck—_that Roxas was watching. All the sensations were ricocheting inside him, heightening everything, pulling him oh so close to the edge. Finally, with a sharp thrust, the building pressure was released and a screen of brilliant white covered his vision. He mentally fought with himself for a fraction of a moment, trying to force out the desired cry.

"Ah! _Roxas!_" Sora moaned loudly. And as he expected, Riku instantly stopped moving, just short of his own blinding release. Sora panted shallowly, practically brain dead in his afterglow. Yet he could hear the metaphorical breaking of Riku's mind, the sound of his heart cracking and falling into pieces like glass.

"What…did you just say…?" Riku asked between trying to catch his own breath. Sora didn't answer, merely looked through him with glazed over eyes. "Who's Roxas?" he snapped. Again Sora failed to answer, too drained from the whole ordeal finally being over. He'd done it; he'd successfully accomplished his entire purpose for this whole situation. He didn't have to do this anymore: his mission was finally complete.

Riku scowled at the smaller boy before pulling out and sloppily yanking on his clothes. Sora whined at the loss of warmth, tired eyes following the older boy's movements, but made no move to stop him.

"Sora I thought…you said…we…" Riku attempted to speak several times until he simply snarled, "Oh, this is absolute insanity! I don't know why I even try anymore." He stomped off into some random direction, probably to continue his journey through the white halls as he searched once more for the exit of this god-forsaken castle.

Zexion started to laugh as he dropped his glamour, elatedly high off satisfaction.

* * *

It goes with out saying that Riku did end up forgiving 'Sora'. Rather, he never remembered it even happening so there was nothing to technically forgive. Even though the castle didn't affect him as intensely as it did for Sora, he still had some memories of his stay there blurred, thanks to Namine. That damn witch never could stand by while someone was hurting.

So when he finally made it out, his first action was trying to figure out where Sora was and how he was going to save him. Because that's what Riku did, it's what he always did. In his world, the ones he loved always came first, and Sora was at the top of the list.


	8. Zexion

If what Zexion had with the organization was in any way normal, then the members would treat him like a cheap corner whore. They would whistle and call out raunchy, suggestive things. They would probably taunt and scorn him for being such a slut. But what he had with the members was different than simply being a willing and easy fuck. It didn't matter who he did it with, whether he was on top or bottom; he held the power. For if they did such things then he would stop coming to them. And none of them wanted to lose the only opportunity they had at sharing such fabricated passion with the objects of their lust.

So if it ever came about that he would pass a fellow nobody they would treat him how they normally did. Some would offer a nod or even a single word as greeting. But more often than not he would receive nothing, silence, ignored.

Which was even worse than getting harassed, because in that case at least they acknowledged what he did for them. Granted he hadn't done it out of love or anything, it was an order from Xemnas. But it wasn't something you could do and stay completely impassive. It would have been impossible not to adopt certain thoughts, to not be effected by it somehow, no matter how illogical that seemed.

Even though he hadn't started out this 'mission' caring(in the knowledge sense, rather than the emotional one) about the others at all, it would be an outright lie to say that still was the case. There was no way around that simple fact. He created a sort of attachment to each one. And as time kept going on, it was getting harder and harder to ignore when it was not his name that fell from their lips.

Zexion was used. Shamelessly. By a great portion of the organization. And there was nothing he could do about it. Whether that was because it was an official order that had come from the Superior, he just didn't know.

But what it came down to was the fact that Zexion was a substitute and in their minds he always would be.

* * *

Zexion was making another stop tonight. Of course he wasn't bound by Xemnas' order anymore, but the involved members still came to him, knowing what he would still give. But there weren't as many 'clients' as when he first started, all thanks to that Keybrat Sora. Sora was making his way through the castle, killing -or at least trying to kill- any and every member he came across. Turns out his ploy to weaken Sora and his friend didn't quite work like he had anticipated, which took quite a toll on his ego: he _never_ failed. As it would happen, after he had left the boy, Namine had appeared to pick up the broken pieces, trying to patch him up as best she could. Of course he wasn't quite the same as before, but it was good enough that he continued to work his way through the ranks. And he had a feeling she was doing the same for the other boy, the older one. He had hoped to also keep the boys separated by their new found hatred for one another, but he wasn't so sure that was possible now.

Damn witch.

Axel's room was his current destination and he was getting close. But as he neared, Axel met him early.

"Come on," the redhead smirked, grabbing the smaller nobody's hand "I want to go somewhere different this time." Number eight pulled the blue haired nobody through many too bright hallways until they reached the stone door. Yanking it open Axel winked at the other as he led him down into the basement levels of their castle. Zexion's senses were in overdrive at this point. It didn't matter how seductive and eager Axel was sounding: this reeked of a trap.

It was just as he was planning an escape when a hand shot out of the darkness and pinned him to a wall. He choked, thrashing around in the stranger's grasp, but he was not released. The Riku Replica stepped out into the dim light, his face a mask of indifference.

"Why? Why Axel?" Zexion called out to the sneering redhead "After all I've—"

"All you've done for me?" Axel mocked with contempt, "You haven't done shit. You didn't put out as Roxas _for_ me. You did it because that's what Xemnas ordered! This was probably his plan all along!" he spat

"What plan?" Zexion wheezed, genuinely confused about what the pyro was going on about.

"Don't play dumb you little SNEAK. The plan where you get us to let our guards down and tell you things, secret things. Where you get information from us by letting us get into your pants! Then after you're done playing with us you run back to Xemnas and tell him everything you've learned. Little traitor!" he spat.

"Like you're one to talk about betrayal." He growled back, but the hand choking him tightened and so he tried another tactic. "Don't be moronic; you know full well that he told me to strengthen you all with my own power."

"Really now? And why should I believe that?"

"Do you really think I'd be so easily over powered by a mere experiment otherwise?" Zexion gasped, his lungs starting to burn and is throat beginning to bruise. It wasn't very logical that a nobody would be bound by human functions when they lacked a heart, the center of it all. Odd thoughts to have while one is in the middle of asphyxiation.

Axel snorted, "Well, it doesn't really matter the reason anymore. You know more than you should, things that can't be spread around. You know about Marluxia's plan to overthrow Xemnas and take over the organization. You know how Larxene is helping." The redhead slowly made his way over to the struggling shell and touched the pale cheek in mock tenderness "And you know how I'm pretending to aid them, but will soon turn against them."

"Axel please," Zexion didn't like to beg, but that didn't mean he wouldn't "I haven't told Xemnas anything that you've all shared with me, and I wasn't planning to." he sputtered, trying to get in at least one full breath of oxygen "Trust me, I've developed an attachment to all of you, I wouldn't betray you all like that, not anymore!" he exclaimed, throwing out any stupid sentimental thought that might get under Axel's skin, anything to save himself.

"Don't try to pretend you have feelings." the other hissed "We don't have hearts, so we don't have the capacity to _feel._"

"Oh yeah? Well then what do you call what you have for Roxas?" Zexion made his body rapidly change until a scared Roxas was looking back at him. Axel looked shocked and confused for a moment, but his face hardened quickly.

He slapped 'Roxas', who melted back into Zexion and snarled, "Don't you play dirty mind games with me."

"I can't believe you're really going to let this _thing_ kill me." Zexion gasped in pain around the hand clutching his throat, squirming and thrashing more than he had before now that the end was so tangibly close. They didn't exist, death was supposed to be the grateful release from their painful second lives. But if this was so, then why was he panicking? Why did he fight it when it was all they ever wanted, coming second only to obtaining those elusive hearts? For a moment his mind wandered again, as it so often did in dangerous situations, and he wondered if maybe he had retained a bit more humanity then he realized.

Axel didn't say anything –just watching coldly- as the Riku Replica finally crushed the young nobody's neck with an audible snap and started to absorb the schemer's power. Zexion started to disappear, his body floating away in strips of smoky, black ribbon. Evaporating until nothing was left.

They had started their second existence with only one purpose: to retrieve their hearts. But in the end Zexion had gotten only death, like so many before him. It was obvious to Axel that the rest were soon to follow in the same manner.

Death was all that ever awaited them.


End file.
